


You'll Always Be Worth It

by Alphawolfofred67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Comfort, Episode Tag, Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Other, Post-Episode: s11e17 Red Meat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:49:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6432490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawolfofred67/pseuds/Alphawolfofred67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Shot- Missing Scene- This is a tag for "Red Meat" Just a little drabble of what happened after they drove away from the care center. Fluff assured! Beware of hugs!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Always Be Worth It

How many times? How many moments had he found himself in where his world came to a complete stop, where his heart ceased to beat and froze. How many times would he watch as his world shattered into a million pieces and his life be destroyed? How many times would he continue to see the same scene unfold before his very eyes? The same scene that haunted him on quite a few occasions. How many more times would he have to witness his brother die, over and over again? 

Dean would always ask himself the same questions. It was always 'how' or 'why'. How come Sam had to save the world just end up the one to suffer most? Why is it, that, everytime they caught a break something else would get in the way? So many other questions haunted his thoughts and put his conscious in to over drive. Never once having piece of mind? 

No matter how many times, no matter the scenario, he would never get used to the idea of his little brother dying. 

Now, as they ride down the lonely road, Dean can't help but give Sam sideway glances just to make sure he was just there and not back at that run down cabin laying on the cold floor. Unmoving, not breathing, dead. He was afraid that if he took his eyes off Sam long enough that his brother might just disappear and be exactly where he was when Dean could not find a pulse. 

All the emotions that ran through him was like a tidal wave crashing against rocks, just clashing into one another. First there was that ice cold fear as he entered the cabin and his eyes moved to where Sam lay on the filthy floor. There was that pause as he chanted 'No. No, not again' in his head. Then there was a shimmer of hope that maybe he passed out from the blood loss or pain and that he was still alive so he ran and fell to his knees beside his to silent brother but, as he called out his name Dean's hands that had been going to touch Sam stopped mid air. Dean's gaze rested on the bloody wound from the gun shot and he stared at the sickly color tainting Sam's shirt.

Dean's eyes had grown wide as the realization hit him and he immediately checked Sam's neck for a pulse. He found none. That's when the ache went to a painful throb because Sam, his little brother, his family, was just gone, again.

Dean, lost in his sorrowful mind, did not notice the way his hands started to grip the steering wheel or the worried gaze he was receiving from the passenger seat. 

"Dean? Dean!" Sam called loud enough to break through Dean's thoughts.

"Yeah?" Dean grunted tiredly. 

Sam didn't miss the way Dean flinched at the sound of his name being spoken. "What's going on? You okay?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. 

Truth be told, Sam was worried. When he woke up, alone, in the cabin he felt panic. He wasn't sure why Dean was no where in sight or if he was safe, after all, Sam did get suffocated by the very guy they saved. Call that ironic. Which also made him a killer and without knowing what happened to his brother, he was more than just a little worried. Even though he called and Dean answered he was still worried. After everything that's happened until that point there was always a reason to be. 

Dean took a deep breath. "Yeah im just exhausted man. Rough night and all." He answered easily. 

Sam didn't believe it. Not fully. He could always read Dean like an open book. At least, since the very beginning since they starts working hunts together. Sure, he could see the exhaustion written all over Dean's rough features but there was something else, too. Something Sam couldn't place. He would found out, eventually. Even if he has to ask Dean a hundred times what's bothering him, he would. 

"We should find a motel. I could use to good nights sleep." Sam stated with a wince from changing position, the movement jarring his wound. 

Dean looked over at his worriedly. "Take it easy, okay? Its gonna take some time to heal." 

Sam smiled. That's the brother he knew. Anytime Sam got injured or hurt Dean was always right there to coach him on or play mother hen. He use to hate how his brother hovered over him and protected him no matter what he protested but now? Now he would not complain. It still annoyed him to no ends but he appreciated it far more. It reminded him, them both, that they were brothers and nothing could change that. 

Dean drove for another twenty minutes before a well lit vacancy sign came into view and he pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the office. He got out, shutting the door with care and striding up to the door and going inside. 

Sam let his eyes shut. The harsh hours catching up to him as he allowed his body to fully relax against the seat. He went on full adrenaline to get to the care center and to Dean, ignoring the pain that shot through his entire body for the safety of his brother. It was funny, how when you think someone you care about might be in danger and your body just switches to auto pilot and goes where it needs to be.  
Though, its always like that with them. When ones in trouble the other will stop at nothing to save them. One, two or even ten times, Sam and Dean would sell their soul for the other. 

"Got it." Dean threw the key on Sam's lap after getting back in the car and shutting the door. 

Dean chose a parking space and pulled the impala in its waiting arms where he cut the engine, opened the door and got out. 

Sam sighed and also opened the door. His body was still a little weak and he about face planted when he stood from the seat but Dean was already there catching him as his feet gave out. "Woah there, Sam. I gotcha." He whispered. 

Similar to when he got shot, Dean hooked one arm around Sam's waste and grabbed Sam's arm, throwing it over his head, with the other. Taking on Sam's full weight as his own. 

"Dean, the bags."

"Leave it. I'll get them later." Dean unlocked the door and walked them in, guiding Sam to the bed and sitting him down.

Dean moved around the room, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the table. "I call shower." He said. 

Sam but his lip and fiddled with his hands. "Dean. What happened when I died. Well, when you thought I died? Don't tell me nothing. I saw it in your eyes back there when I asked you the first time. Something happened, didn't it?" He asked meeting Dean's gaze, who had been walking to the bathroom but came to a complete stop and faced Sam when the question left Sam's mouth. 

Dean blinked and ran his hand over his mouth. "Sam-" 

"Dean." Sam said his name with authority and stood up. "I know you, and I know something's bothering you."

Dean shook his head and as Sam stared into those emerald eyes he saw the one emotion he knew all to well. It was an emotion he saw when Dean explained his time in hell or when he first found out Sam was exercising demons with his mind and the angels threatened to kill him. It was sadness at the highest level.

"You died. Again. At least, I thought you did and all I could think was 'Sammy's gone, again' and I couldn't do anything to stop it. You were just...gone. You know I though it would get easier, the whole 'dying and being in a better place' thing but, its not. I can't take it if you're dead Sam, I just can't." Dean's voice was low, sad and his eyes were glassy on the verge of tears. 

Sam had to blink away his own tears that threatened to spill. "Dean, I know, im sorry. I couldn't stand to lose you either. You're my brother and it'll never be easier. I think its always going to be harder each time."

Dean swallowed thickly. "I, uh, visited 'scary crazy death machine'. I didn't know what else to do." He admitted waiting for Sam's reaction but only seeing confusion. "The reaper Sam." 

He saw the moment realization flashed in Sam's eyes, then anger. "What? The only way to do that is if-"

"I die. I know, Sam." Dean finished his sentence. 

Sam stepped forward until he was right in front of Dean. The anger and worry tolling off his gigantic brother in waves. "Tell me you didn't. Tell me, Dean, that you didn't kill your self?!" 

Dean licked his lips and looked away. What could he say? 'Oh yeah Sam I downed about twenty pills and OD'd'? He willingly killed himself so he could talk to her and try and make a deal to get Sam back? If memory serves, that didn't blow over so smoothly last time. Still, Sam deserved, had the right, to know exactly what Dean did. The lengths he would still go for Sam. 

"What do you want me to say Sam? Yes, okay? I offed myself so that I could see that bi*** and get you back!" He said loud enough but didn't yell. 

Sam shook his head. The fact Dean had actually died while he was supposedly dead hit hard. He knew what Dean would do, what he would give up if it meant Sam would stay alive and it pained him because no matter how many times they have the same discussion about how the dead should stay dead it wouldn't never be so. Dean would never let him die if he could stop it. He wanted to yell at Dean, call him an idiot for pulling such a dangerous and stupid stunt but then could he really judge Dean when he himself would do the exact same thing if Dean died? 

So, Sam did only thing he could think of. He raised his arm and rested his hand on Dean's shoulder long enough for Dean to look down at the hand and back up at Sam with a raised brow. Then Sam pulled Dean forward and wrapped his hands around him in an embrace. 

Dean, taken back by the action, froze on the spot but few seconds in he returned the gesture. He tighten his hold as he thought back into the cabin. Sam wasn't dead. He wasn't laying on the cold floor, unmoving, he was there, solid and alive. Breathing. He hadn't lost his brother.

"Dean, don't do that again, okay? Its not worth it." Sam said closing his eyes, glad Dean was also alive. 

Dean smirked and in a low voice, low enough that Sam's ears could not pick up on, said, "You'll always be worth it."


End file.
